After dinner, Ryan went back to grinding monsters for a few more hours before the news hit: the Guardian had been slain.
The guild that brought it down wasn’t one of the major nas everyone knew. It was a small, almost unheard-of outfit. But according to Nightwalker, who had gone to see the battle in person, at least six or seven large guilds were stationed around the periter, making sure no one interfered or tried to snatch the loot.
The guild’s na was Crimson Wake.
In the years to co, it would rise to beco the largest guild in the world, a gathering place for the strongest players alive, and the very guild that would help propel Ryan toward becoming the world’s first Holy Paladin.
They weren’t supposed to appear until the ga’s second version. Yet here they were, suddenly on the stage ahead of schedule.
Ryan wasn’t sure how to feel. Fear? Surprise? Or maybe nothing at all? In his previous life, Crimson Wake’s powerful backing in the real world had been the reason he could live and play in relative safety. Now, facing them again so early was unsettling in ways he couldn’t quite na.
"It’s so strange," Moonlight Beauty said thoughtfully. "A tiny guild no one’s heard of, and yet the big guilds are standing guard for them, letting them take their ti killing the Guardian. Weren’t they all fighting each other to the death just a while ago?"
Then her eyes lit up, as if she’d just made a connection. "Wait... I knew sothing was off. The way Crimson Wake’s people move—it’s like soldiers. That’s it. A military vibe!"
Her remark sparked agreent from others who had watched the fight.
"Yeah, they really do look like it," one said.
"I just got out of the service," Smoking Gun added, "and their movents are exactly like soldiers still in training." That earned him curious looks and murmurs of respect.
In this era of global unification, the military only accepted the exceptional. Even though Smoking Gun had been a conscript who served just a few years, that still put him among the elite.
"What, the military has nothing better to do than play gas now?" Evelyn scoffed from the side. "This is the Federal Governnt’s official ga, rember?"
Her sarcasm only made things click faster in Ryan’s mind.
In his past life, no one had picked up on Crimson Wake’s military-like discipline. They must have blended in over ti. Looking back, it explained everything: why they ran the guild on rit, promoting only the capable; how they’d recruited so many top players from the start; and why rumors of their real-world connections never ca with any proof.
If their roots were in the military, it all made sense.
Truth be told, Ryan was curious about Crimson Wake. He was already thinking about so kind of partnership, similar to the alliances they’d ford with other guilds in his last life.
Teaming up with them wouldn’t bring him much direct help in-ga—and might even cost him a few of his best players—but the protection they could offer in the real world would be invaluable. For soone with his personal concerns, that was worth more than any raid loot.
The military was the most powerful organization in existence. If they were backing Crimson Wake, then joining hands with them would keep most threats at bay. And with the number of Glorious Achievents Ryan had been racking up, he suspected that even if he didn’t approach them first, they’d co looking for him eventually.
They’d have to. His ability to earn Achievents could lead directly to breakthroughs in technology—sothing no military could ignore.
For now, though, Ryan set those thoughts aside and went back to grinding for experience.
After hitting level 26, Ryan kept grinding until his experience overflow reached a full one million. By then it was already past ten o’clock at night, and word ca in that a small strike team from the Ironblood Covenant had claid the first clear of the new dungeon, Gnoll Temple.
Ryan’s opinion of the place was blunt: for him, it was nothing more than an experience farm. The rare-quality gear from its quests at level 26 was no better than what he could pick up from outdoor missions.
The bosses’ drops were even less appealing to a Paladin. But for spellcasting damage dealers, Gnoll Temple was a gold mine.
Its final boss dropped a level 25 rare-quality staff that, before level 35, was almost unrivaled. Only the elusive world-drop epic staves could beat it.
Packed with high intellect, heavy spell damage, and the all-important hit and critical strike bonuses that casters lived for, the staff had no wasted stats. Its performance rivaled even a level 30 rare-quality weapon. Countless Mages, Warlocks, and Shadow Priests would end up farming it from level 25 well into the 30s.
So the mont the dungeon opened, Ryan told every caster in his guild to get in there as soon as they hit level 23. A few tried to rope him into their runs, but he declined, staying laser-focused on his own grind.
Mia, being a Mage herself, was so annoyed by his refusal that she ca over in person to vent her frustration—physically. Ryan just grinned and went back to killing. When he saw how much his experience bar had filled, the sore shoulder felt worth it.
The lee and healer classes in Flowing Light stayed out of the dungeon, as did the newly joined casters who were still level 22. Those who did qualify had no choice but to find pick-up groups. So felt awkward under the stares of solo players—it wasn’t every day you saw mbers of a top-tier guild teaming with randoms.
But orders were orders. They ignored the looks and got to work. Their skills spoke for themselves; within minutes, every one of them had been snapped up by dungeon teams.
By now, most players knew Flowing Light’s philosophy: few but elite. Any mber was worth far more than their level suggested. Grouping with them was a privilege compared to dealing with unpredictable strangers.
While the dungeon teams set off, about a dozen others followed Ryan’s coordinates to Cragshore.
The sight that greeted them stopped them cold.
A heap of corpses—so many that "pile" didn’t do it justice—covered the ground around Ryan. Thousands of dead monsters cramd into such a small space made for a grotesque, almost surreal sight.
"Holy crap, Guild Leader, you’re a beast!" Moonlight Beauty blurted, and the players behind her murmured their agreent. No one had expected the reality to be this extre.
"These are the ones we’re killing next!" Nightwalker said with awe in his voice.
Heavyblade Vina, a Paladin Ryan hadn’t seen in so ti, just stared at him for a long mont, her expression unreadable, before looking away with a small shrug.
"Alright," Ryan said, stepping forward and pulling another fresh group of monsters toward him. "We’ll split into three squads. Each of you will take a grinding spot. Doesn’t matter how many you kill—these things will keep spawning."
The group watched as he unleashed Divine Storm, followed instantly by Hamr of Justice. The monsters dropped in seconds. The twitch in everyone’s eyes was almost synchronized.
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